


Marble Pancakes

by cowboykylux



Category: Paterson (2016)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Married Couple, Poetry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-25 19:31:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17127389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cowboykylux/pseuds/cowboykylux
Summary: Paterson sees all sorts of things on his route, and all of them remind him of you.





	Marble Pancakes

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by my good friend who submitted a prompt for a Paterson x Reader fic where Paterson sees some kids in halloween costumes, and it makes him realize that he is ready to be a father!

_I want to grow old with you_

_In a small house by the sea,_

_Where the wind blows gently across the dunes_

_And you wake up to the glow of the rising sun._

_I want to grow old with you_

_Seated at a sturdy table,_

_Quiet dinners filled with laughter_

_Tables piled high with marbled pancakes_

_As you throw marshmallows into my mouth._

Paterson chewed on the end of his pen, careful not to bite down too hard and break the thing. He had been working on this poem for you for the better part of three weeks now, but he didn’t know how to proceed from the last words inked in his new notebook.

He checked his watch, his route officially beginning in exactly four minutes. Could he come up with something in four minutes? No probably not, he decided, as he tucked the notebook protectively inside his small insulated lunch bag.

Paterson loved his job, he found that driving the bus around town was just as rewarding as his time in the service, but for different reasons. The variety of people was always what interested him most – from the elderly women who knit socks and gloves for the homeless, to the rebellious teens who talk about dismantling the class system.

Between the sound of the air conditioning, the engine, and the rattling of the bus as it hit uneven pavement, Paterson had to pay close attention to what his patrons were talking about, so he tended to mind his own business, catching bits and pieces of conversations as he made his rounds. All the conversations today seemed to be about Halloween plans, people young and old excited to finally put on their costumes and have a good time.

Three teenagers got on the bus at the next stop, laughing about something on their phones.

“This would have been so good!” One of the teenagers, a brunette, held her phone up so the other two could see. Paterson didn’t see what it was, but the other two girls nodded in agreement.

“Do you remember when Rebecca went as Miley Cyrus from the wrecking ball music video? That was such a good costume.” The one with glasses reminisced about Halloweens gone by, and the blonde next to her groaned.

“That  _was_ really good, shit now I don’t know if I should go as Gamora. Maybe I’ll think of something else before we get to my house and I’ll change it.” She lamented as her friends reassured her.

“No, you look so badass as Gamora, and with the green eyeshadow it’ll be perfect!” The brunette gave her a playful swat on the arm.

“Yeah, you worked hard on that costume, you’ll look amazing.” The one with glasses agreed. This seemed to appease the blonde, and she went from frowning to blushing with a nervous smile.  

“Do you think Melanie will be there?” She bit her lip, squealing excitedly when the girl with glasses said yes.

Oh to be young and in love, Paterson thought, his mind drifting back to you.

* * *

 

He had woken you up with ten kisses today, two more than yesterday. He wondered if you were just pretending to sleep to get more kisses, because he could have sworn he saw your lip twitch upwards in a small smile. Even if you were, he’d still give you more and more, gently peppered across your hand, your shoulder, your back and your cheek.

“Good morning.” His low voice rumbled into your veins as he snuggled himself closely behind you.

“’Morning.” You grinned, turning in his embrace.

It was earlier than normal, Paterson’s silent alarm clock waking him up just at the stroke of six, for whatever reason. You didn’t mind though, you loved to spend as much time with your husband as you could before he left for the day.

“Do you want me to make something special for breakfast?” You ask, burrowing into his white tshirt and rubbing your cold feet against his warm calves. He didn’t even flinch, he had gotten used to you stealing his warmth about two years ago. He simply wrapped you up tighter in his arms and placed a sweet kiss to the top of your head.

“What’s the occasion?” He asked, still half asleep. The sun was barely peeking through the windows, and the birds were only just starting to sing.

“It’s Halloween, silly!” You giggled, cracking and eye open to smile at your husband.

“Is that today?” He yawned. Halloween was never one of his favorite holidays growing up, he always felt like a loner and was never really good at coming up with costume ideas. But you loved it, and because of how much you loved it, Paterson was slowly starting to see the fun in the holiday.

“Yes sir. Remember we’re going to host a little get together here later this evening?” You kissed his throat before sitting up, popping the joints in your spine and shoulders as you stretched.

“Oh right, and the trick-or-treaters will all be coming.” Paterson thought out loud, following your lead and swinging his legs out of bed.

“Mhm,” You agreed, going into the bathroom to do a quick morning routine. “It feels like trick-or-treating starts earlier and earlier every year.” You said as you splashed some water on your face at the sink.

“Everyone wants to come to our house because they know we give out the full size bars.” Paterson grinned, making you laugh.

“Come on, I’ll make us some fun pancakes.” You held out a hand, which he happily took.

You walked hand and hand down the stairs and into the kitchen, where Pat poured himself a tiny bowl of cheerios as you heated up the griddle and started making the batter. Standing there in the kitchen, wearing his t-shirt as your pajamas, Paterson thought you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. How had he gotten so lucky to marry you?

You turned half the pancake batter orange and the other half black, and you poured each onto the griddle. Using a toothpick, you gave the batter a swirl so it had a marbled effect, and in no time Halloween themed pancakes were stacked high on the kitchen table.

“I get off early today, so I should be home around four instead of five.” Paterson tucked his bowl and spoon into the dishwasher, and pulled out your chair for you like a gentleman as you served yourself some of the hot pancakes.

“How exciting! I’ll have the house decorated by then.” You were happy he would be home early, he was your favorite person in the whole wide world. You poured some syrup onto your pancakes before handing it over to Paterson, who drenched his pancakes as well.

“Honey, the house already is decorated.” He frowned slightly in confusion, looking around.

Your humble home was tastefully covered in all sorts of autumnal décor and Paterson wasn’t sure you could fit anything else in.

The vases were sporting fall colored flowers, some of which that were dried out and dead but that you kept for the, “spooky factor.” Every conceivable counter space or table top had some sort of prop or large item on it: fake ravens perched on bowls of candy, rubber limbs and plastic bones, candles in the shape of skulls, light-up pumpkins  _everywhere,_ and all manner of small creepy-crawly things; including a fake spider that scared Paterson half to death when he came home and saw it sitting in the bowl where he puts his keys. The stairs were draped with purple lights to combat all the orange in the décor, and Paterson had even helped put big gel stickers on all the windows.

Outside wasn’t much calmer, you lined the walkway and the stoop with more light up pumpkins, and had made your own ghost decorations to hang with fishing wire from the branches of the oak tree on your property. There were Styrofoam tombstones stuck in the ground, and for one of them you put the arm of a skeleton coming through the dirt to make it look like it was escaping.

“Yeah, but tonight’s actually the night! So we have to go all out.” You insisted, already running through your mental list; fake cobwebs, paper bats, google how to set up the fog machine…

“If you say so.” Paterson smiled into his pancakes, and you couldn’t help but chuckle, going to the pantry and grabbing something discreetly.

“Hey honey, catch!” You surprised him by bouncing a marshmallow against his nose, catching him off-guard.

The two of you laughed, and you threw another one, this time with his full attention so he could catch it between his teeth. The two of you goofed around until it was just about seven o’clock, and then Paterson left the kitchen to get ready for his day at work.

* * *

 

_I want to grow old with you_

_In a small house by the sea,_

_Where the wind blows gently across the dunes_

_And you wake up to the glow of the rising sun._

_I want to grow old with you_

_Seated at a sturdy table,_

_Quiet dinners filled with laughter_

_Tables piled high with marbled pancakes_

_As you throw marshmallows into my mouth._

Paterson looked down at his notebook during his lunch break and sighed. Still no inspiration had struck him, although to be fair, he did a decent amount of daydreaming and eavesdropping during the first half of his shift. He opened his lunch bag, and smiled at the picture of you he had taped in for today.

This one was of you at the pool; the sun was in your eyes so you squinted, and your nose was all scrunched up, but Paterson adored it. You had packed him a big wrap sandwich, practically bursting with all his favorite vegetables, a small sauce container with some dressing tucked next to it. You also had put in two Halloween themed cookies, one was decorated with a pumpkin in frosting, and the other was purple with black sprinkles.

Sitting on his favorite park bench, he quietly ate his lunch, happy to be surrounded by peace and quiet after a couple hours of the loud rev of the bus engine. Taking his time as he ate, he closed his eyes and just reveled in the beauty of nature, thinking of you all the while.

School in Paterson let out at two-thirty, and so at three o’clock the bus was filled with parents and their children heading home after a fun day of learning. Paterson couldn’t help but notice how many of the younger kids were already in costume.

There was one woman in particular, whose young daughter was dressed up like a miniature version of Wonder Woman, her legs too short to touch the ground while she sat on the bus seat, her legs swinging happily now that she was with her.

“What did you do in class today?” The mother asked, her eyes kind as she tucked a lock of the girl’s hair behind her ear so it wouldn’t get in her eyes.

“We – we made cards, look I made you a card!” The girl cut herself off, rummaging through her bag before pulling a folded piece of green construction paper out of her backpack. The construction paper had drawings all over it, and Paterson noticed some glitter flutter into the air when the mother opened it with a happy smile.

“Oh my darling it’s beautiful! Thank you so much, did you write this?” She pointed to something inside the card, and the daughter practically beamed.

“Yes I did. We got to do vocabulary crosswords but the words were all monster themed! Frankenstein was on it twice and I asked Mrs. Shelly how come, and she said it’s because Frankenstein is the name of the scientist but also a lot of people think it’s the name of the monster.” She took a deep breath at the end of that sentence, and Paterson smiled warmly to himself at just how excited she was. “He doesn’t really have a name, everyone just thinks he’s called Frankenstein.”

“I didn’t know the monster didn’t have a name.” The mother said with surprise, although he was sure she was just doing that to make her daughter feel more open about sharing new things with her.

“Neither did I! Oh! And we wrote poems!” The girl giggled, barely able to sit still in her seat. That caught Paterson’s attention immediately.

“Would you read me yours when we get home?” The mother asked as she stood up, the bus slowing down to the next stop. She reached out her hand and her daughter held onto it with a vice-like grip.

“Yeah! And I colored a picture of Dracula for daddy, do you think he’ll like it?” She asked her mom as the bus doors opened and a large group of people got off.

“Of course he will, we’ll put it on the fridge as soon as we get home, so he can see it right when…” Paterson lost the conversation as they stepped out of the bus, off to their own home and their own lives.

Something about seeing that mother and daughter got him thinking about you again. How sweet it would be to come home to a kiss from you, and a hug from his son or daughter. As more and more kids in costumes came onto the bus, he couldn’t help but imagine coordinating family costumes, or taking his own children shopping for whatever they wanted to be that year. Coming home to drawings on the fridge, or poems written in class, even accompanying his kids to trick-or-treating to make sure they get all the best candy blossomed in his chest.

You had been married for two years now, was it too early to ask about children? He knew you wanted them badly, but he never felt like it was the right time. Now though, now it felt like he didn’t want to wait another moment. It was like a switch flipped in him, and just like that, the poem wrote itself.

_I want to grow old with you_

_In a small house by the sea,_

_Where the wind blows gently across the dunes_

_And you wake up to the glow of the rising sun._

_I want to grow old with you_

_Seated at a sturdy table,_

_Quiet dinners filled with laughter_

_Tables piled high with marbled pancakes_

_As you throw marshmallows into my mouth._

_I want to raise children with you,_

_Tooth fairies and Santa Clause and the Great Pumpkin visit our house_

_Living proof of my love for you running down the stairs and into my arms_

_They laugh and they cry and we surprise you with breakfast in bed before school and work_

_I hang up their drawings on the bus and you leave them sweet notes of encouragement with lunch_

_In our little house by the sea we’ll teach them everything we know and send them off into the world_

_Let me grow old with you_

_Let me hold your hand_

_Let me_

 


End file.
